Fade to Black
by shirleypositive72
Summary: Dean needs a favor, and he knows she'll never say no. Post Season 9. Spoilers. M for language.


**A/N: Just a little one shot written for a challenge in my SPN fic group.**

"You should kill me."

"I know."

"I'd kill you, if our places were reversed."

"I know."

"I'm actually pretty sure it's why I came here."

"I know."

"Nikki."

"Dean."

"You have to. Sam can't do it, and I . . . I just can't."

"No. I'll just, I'll-"

I have to turn my back on him. That action, in and of itself, is a perfect example of how very not right this whole situation is.

I just knowingly turned my back on a demon.

Doesn't matter that the demon is Dean Winchester. Well, it does matter. It makes it so much worse. In my younger days, I thought I might love him. Now that I'm older, he's my favorite bed buddy. I can safely say he's the best I've ever had.

He comes to my door today, all hot and and ripped and Dean. No Sam tagging along. Usually that means he's both horny and nearby. He's always horny, I just reap the benefits when he's also nearby. So, of course, I think, fuck yes, let's go.

But no.

He can't cross the threshold.

Too much salt.

Too much fucking salt because he's a damn demon. A damn dirty demon. And not a demon wearing Dean's meat suit. No, no, no, that would be too fucking normal for Dean Fucking Winchester. Dean IS the demon.

But he's still Dean. Mostly. I guess. Same smartass smirk. Same deep, gravelly voice that sends shivers through my body straight to my vagina. Same bossy as hell attitude. Same deep green eyes that see right through every stitch of my clothes.

Well, until they turn black.

But then it's like he's Dean, only with black eyes. After my initial shock, we talk He talks anyway. And because he's Dean, I listen. How he's managing to stay so himself is a question I can't answer. I haven't asked him yet, either. He won't shut up about me killing him. I'd love to know, though. New info is hard to come by in the monster research game. Usually the answers are all in hundred year old, smelly, leather-bound books. This tidbit of new data comes wrapped up in the best, and sexiest, Hunter around.

Who also happens to currently be a demon.

And wants me to kill him ASAP.

Fuck my life.

"You'll just what, Nik?"

"Find a cure? A spell? A bag of pixie dust? Fuck, I don't know!"

He reaches for me. Dean never could stand to see me upset. He hates chick flick moments, but when I start to chew on a thumbnail, he knows shit is gonna get squirrelly. He just can't quite get to me this time.

"Uh, Nikki."

"What?" I whine.

"The salt line, sweetheart," he says, green-again eyes looking down.

"Won't matter, babe. Salt in the paint on every door frame and windowsill." I just called a demon "babe". But he called me "sweetheart" first, so there's that.

Impressed, he says, "Smart."

"I try."

"Please come out here and kill me."

"How about a blowjob instead?" He won't be able to resist that.

"Nikki."

"Dean. I'm totally serious."

"This is not what I want to be, Nik. I won't be this. I need your help," he says, softly, earnestly.

"I don't think I can do it," I whisper, tears in my eyes. I liked it so much better when the demon and I were teasing each other.

"Come out here. Come on. I promise I won't hurt you." He steps back, giving me enough room to move, to run if I need to.

I step out of my house, and into his waiting arms. I can't even explain it. I know what he is. He told me! He showed me! I don't care. He's Dean.

"I don't want to," I say into his chest, through the layers of cotton and flannel. "A cure -"

"There is one. Knowing you, you'd find it somewhere or pester Sammy until he told you. Only Sammy can do it, and it would kill him." I make some kind of noise that veers toward disbelief, and he lifts my chin. "Literally kill him, Nikki." That's the end of that.

"Exorcism?"

"Won't work. I'm not possessed."

"How many other doors have you knocked on?"

"Just yours. You were the only person who came to mind."

"Awesome. Need someone to poke you with that magic pig sticker, and my name pops up. Nice, Winchester." I'm trying to joke, trying to lighten this shitty situation up again. The snotty tears are working against me.

Holding my face in his hands, stroking my stupidly wet cheeks with his thumbs, he says, "You were the only one I knew I could trust. The only one, Nik."

Then he bent his face to meet mine and kissed me. Kissed me like only Dean Winchester ever has. "You were the only one I knew would trust me."

He pulls back while winding those strong arms around. Then squeezes tighter until I can't move. I feel a sharp, stabbing pain in my ribs and realize how utterly stupid I am when his eyes flash black.

"Never trust a demon, sweetheart." And he twists the blade.

"Well done, Dean. She has been quite troublesome in recent years. We could never get to her. Too smart for her own good," says a short British man off to my right. "You took something of a risk, however. She might have really tried to kill you."

As I fall from the arms of a man I once thought I could have loved, as my life fades to black, I hear him say, "No, Crowley, I knew she wouldn't hurt me. I was the best she ever had."

**A/N: Let me know what you think!**


End file.
